


a certain kind of literature

by lauraxtennant



Series: Ten/Rose Collection 2015 [8]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 23:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3746935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose discuss sexy books.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a certain kind of literature

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the anon who prompted this on tumblr :)

They were watching Rose’s favourite TV show, a drama with a cast of several different species, mostly humanoids, mostly very attractive, which was typical of New Hollywood, really.

Currently, there was a sex scene filling the screen. The Doctor had just been about to remark to Rose how _un_ remarkable it was, when he noticed her slightly elevated heart rate and flushed cheeks. He arched an eyebrow, curious. When the scene escalated to its…peak, Rose shifted her legs together. His other eyebrow joined its mate halfway up his forehead. Very curious.

“Rose?” he said, before he could stop himself.

She turned her head towards him. “Yeah?”

“Do you really find this sexy?”

Rose’s mouth dropped open.

“It’s just,” he continued, glancing at the telly again. “I don’t really see what’s so arousing about watching two averagely talented actors simulate…this.” When he returned his gaze to her, she looked uncomfortable, so he added, “Sorry. You don’t have to answer, just ignore me.”

“No, it’s all right,” she said. She cleared her throat. “Um, guess it’s ‘cos…well. They’re quite attractive. And it’s…I don’t know. It just is.”

“Oh.” 

Rose folded her arms defensively. “What, just because it’s a bit romantic rather than straight-up explicit porn, it can’t be sexy?”

“I didn’t say that,” he replied, baffled.

She shook her head. “Sorry. It’s just, Mickey and me had an argument about this once.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, guess he didn’t see the benefit of an actual storyline, you know?”

“I see. Well, I agree with you. A bit of plot makes it more compelling, certainly - helps you invest in the characters, or even identify with them. But this? It’s hardly romantic - they are both cheating on their respective spouses, for a start!”

“Still. It’s…passionate.”

“If you say so. In my opinion, Mills and Boon publishes better drivel than this.”

She gaped at him. “How do you know about Mills and Boon?”

“Those books sell in their millions all the way up to the 27th century, Rose, when they go out of business due to a conflict over the new holographic novels taking the world by storm. Copyright issues, or something.”

Rose laughed. “Wow, seriously? Do they outlast Shakespeare?”

The Doctor looked at her in horror. “Of course they don’t! I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that; I don’t think I’ll be able to look you in the eye again, otherwise.”

She poked his shoulder playfully and smiled at him. “You know what else I used to argue with Mickey about?”

“What?”

“He took the piss ‘cos I said I preferred reading about it than watching it.”

The Doctor rested his arm along the back of the sofa, angling towards her, smiling in delight. “You read sexy books, Rose Tyler?”

She laughed, and shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe.”

“Have you found the entire aisle in here dedicated to literature of that kind?”

Her eyes widened. “What, seriously?”

The Doctor chuckled. “Well, maybe not a whole aisle, but there’s certainly a shelf-full.” Her eyes wandered towards the shelves, and she bit her lip. He leant towards her slightly. “You can go and look, if you like.”

Her eyes snapped back to his. “No, it’s okay, I’m fine.” Then, she arched an eyebrow. “Wait a minute, so do you read that stuff?”

“Well. Sometimes. It can be quite…inspiring, if written well.”

Rose muffled a laugh in her hand.

“What?”

“Can’t believe we’re having this conversation. So, got any recommendations?”

“Hmm,” he mused, scratching his chin. “Well, yes, actually - there is one I think you’d like in particular.”

“Oh? Why’s that, then?”

“Seems like it’d be your sort of thing.”

“And what, you think you know me so well that you know what I’d…enjoy, in a sexy book?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then, like what?”

“Well, from the expression on your face earlier when the main character in this - ” He gestured to the TV. “ - said something vulgar in the heat of passion, I’m betting you like a bit of dirty talk.” He coughed and added, “In your fiction, I mean.”

Rose stared at him.

“And another reason I think you’d like this book,” he hurried on, “Is because the main character - well, she’s blonde and funny and a bit loud and completely in control of her own destiny.” He grinned. “Think you’d identify with her.”

Rose smiled. “Oh. Thanks.” Then, she frowned. “Wait, you think I’m loud?”

“Anyway, you should read it. I’ll go and fetch it for you if you like.”

“I’m okay right now, ta,” she said, and leaned in close. “I wanna know why you read it. Is there a dashing hero who you identify with?”

“Well, naturally,” he said, adjusting his tie.

“What does he look like?”

“Oh, he’s tall and dark and handsome,” he said, waving his hand around vaguely. “And clearly, irresistible.”

“Oh, you reckon?” Rose laughed, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. “And the sexy bits? What do you like about those?”

He shifted in his seat, tilting his head and considering her question. “Hmm, well, it’s all quite thrilling, I suppose. There’s a bit of adventure. Some rumpy-pumpy in a carriage. They elope together, you see. Oh, I forgot to mention, it’s set in 1819. That’s another thing to get you hot and bothered.”

“What makes you think I’d like that?”

“Rose, please,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t deny that when we were in the Regency era last month you couldn’t stop staring at all the men with cravats. Not to mention their crotch-region. Breeches, Rose, really?” He wrinkled his nose.

A blush came to her cheeks as she slunk down in her seat. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“And you mentioned Colin Firth no less than thirteen times. Something about his shirt? I dunno. Don’t get the appeal myself.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Anyway,” he said.

“Do you ever - ” She broke off, twisting her hoop earring thoughtfully.

“Hmm?”

“Well. I was just thinking. Like, you have a time machine.”

“You’ve noticed?” he teased.

“Shut up. Listen, you have the best way of…you know. Being able to…role-play. Don’t you? I mean, think about it, you have a wardrobe full of clothes from different eras. You could go anywhere, and act out any scenario you wanted!”

His eyes widened. “Rose…”

“I’m not saying we should _do_ that,” she hurried to add. “I’m just saying, you could. Theoretically. If you were that way inclined.”

He swallowed. “I could…dress up in a cravat and breeches and have sex with someone in a carriage on the way to Gretna Green?”

“Exactly.” Her cheeks were flushed, and she stared at the telly again, not meeting his eye. He shifted closer.

“Rose.”

“Mm?”

“I’ll go and get you that book.”

“Mmhmm,” she squeaked.

He leant forwards, to better whisper in her ear. “You bookmark the pages you like best, I’ll set the TARDIS coordinates.”


End file.
